Denial and Realization
by Ron Weasley2
Summary: After being blissfully ignorant for 6 years, Ron Weasley has to deal with a large dose of reality when his best friend and his sister let him in on a little secret.
1. Default Chapter

A/N: After watching one of the worst football games I've ever seen, I feel I must write some good old-fashioned fluff to cheer myself up. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

            "C'mon, mate, wake up!" Harry exclaimed, throwing open the curtains that hung around my 4-poster. I groaned as bright sunlight shone in my eyes and burrowed my face into my pillow.

            "Ron, come on, we'll be late for breakfast."

            I sighed and slowly got out of bed. As Harry sighed and looked pointedly at his watch, I got dressed and tried desperately to flatten my hair.

            "Mate, I've tried," Harry advised. "It doesn't work."

            After making one last attempt to tame it, I followed him down the stairs to the common room, where Hermione and Ginny were waiting, looking very impatient.

            "I thought you'd _never_ wake up," Hermione said sternly. "I know it's Saturday, but it's nearly 11!"

            "Exactly, no classes, no reason to wake up early," I replied, grinning. "Even if we miss breakfast, we could always go down to the kitchens and nick some food from Dobby. He'd trip over himself to see Harry again."

            "Oh, _honestly_," Hermione said angrily, elbowing her way past Harry and me toward the portrait hole. Ginny just gave me a knowing look instead of her usual glare and followed Hermione. I glanced at Harry, presumably to laugh at how off girls could be sometimes, but I was shocked to see a sort of dreamy look on his face as my _baby sister_left the room.

            "Harry!" I said suddenly, hoping to jerk him out of his stupor. He jumped slightly and turned to look at me.

            "Well, what are we waiting for?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. "Let's go down to breakfast."

            People could be so weird sometimes.

            When Harry and I reached the Great Hall, Ginny and Hermione had already started eating. I sat down beside Hermione and eagerly piled scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on my plate. As I dug in, I caught Hermione throwing a disgusted look my way, but chose to ignore it. If she had a problem, too bad.

            "So, Gin, what are you planning on doing today?" Harry asked, helping himself to the food as well, although not as quickly as I had.

            "Hermione and I were actually thinking about going to Hogsmeade, there's a trip planned for today," Ginny answered.

            "Oh, that sounds like…fun," Harry said, looking at me. I couldn't be bothered to reply, as I still had a pile of scrambled eggs and 3 pieces of bacon to finish off. Hey, I was brought up with 5 other brothers and a sister: if you didn't eat fast, you didn't eat.

            "Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron, could you please show a bit more courtesy towards the people that actually have to watch you scarf down your food like that?" Hermione said irritatedly as I wiped my mouth with a napkin.

            "Sorry, 'Mione," I answered, knowing that this name would always get her. Sure enough, a hint of a smile flitted across her face before she tried to pretend it didn't affect her.

            "Ron, I still don't understand why you can't be bothered to say my full name," she said, staring intently at her plate, which had remained untouched.

            "Oh, I just thought 'Mione was…prettier," I hardly had the words out of my mouth before I realized how stupid they sounded.

            "So Hermione is an ugly name, is that what you're telling me?" she said angrily.

            "No, I didn't exactly…but I mean, it is rather long and it always makes me think of Hermy, and…."

            "It's fine, Ron, I mean, I've had to deal with Malfoy, this can't be much worse, can it? Ginny, I don't think I'll be going to Hogsmeade today, I have a lot of work to do."

            "But, Hermione—"

            "No, I really mustn't. You have fun, though."

            With that, she nearly jumped out of her chair and left the Great Hall in the blink of an eye. 

            I knew I was going to get it.

            "Ron, you just _had_ to ruin it, didn't you?" Ginny said angrily. Harry gulped and busied himself with his food, trying to stay out of it. I didn't blame him. Ginny was scary when she was mad, kind of like Hermione, now that I thought of it.

            "Ruin what?" I asked.

            "Her good mood! I mean, you're enough of a prat to ruin someone's life, and she was having such a good day, and you _know_ the type of influence you've got on her—"

            "Wait," I interrupted. "What kind of influence do I have on her, exactly?"

            Ginny blushed. Being a Weasley, I could decipher the coloring of her pale cheeks and knew that she should not have said what she said.

            "Nothing, Ron, it's just that, you know, you're friends, and…" she trailed off helplessly. I had her.

            "Ginny, we both know you're lying," I said. "Just tell me the truth. I swear, I won't tell a soul."

            "No, I—I can't," she said weakly.

            Harry sighed loudly, and Ginny and I jumped. 

            "Ron, Hermione's in love with you, she has been since fourth year. _That's_ why she's so upset with you about telling her that her name is ugly."

            Ginny looked downright stunned, and I couldn't have looked any better. 

            "I—she—we—_love_?" I stuttered, unable to form coherent sentences.

            "Harry James Potter," Ginny said quietly. "I cannot believe that you just betrayed your best friend's trust like that."

            "Ginny, face it," Harry said, turning toward her as I watched them in bewildered silence. "All these secrets are just hurting everyone. He has to know. You know he does."

            She sighed in defeat and lay her head down on the table. Meanwhile, I was gaping wordlessly at them like a fish out of water.

            "Would someone _please_ explain what is going on to the confused wizard in the first row?"

            "Oh, right," Harry said, taking his gaze off my sister and looking at me. "Well, Hermione likes you. As more than a friend. As a matter of fact, mate, I'd say she loves you. And you, being that big, cute, prat that you are, have absolutely refused to see that, because no one is stupid enough to have actually just not noticed it. Oh, and you like her, too."

            "What?" I said hotly, feeling the stares of Harry and Ginny boring into my skull, as well as a hot red blush creeping over my cheeks. "I do _not_, we're best friends and—"

            "We didn't tell you who you were friends with," Ginny said gently. "We're telling you that however bloody stupid you may try to be, you can't deny that sometimes, when you look at her, your breath catches in your throat. And sometimes, when she smiles at you, you feel like no matter what's going on—you're failing a class or you had the worst Quidditch game of your life—everything will be OK. You'd do anything to make her happy, but at the same time, you love to get her angry because of the look in her eye and the way her face flushes. You can tease her and think it's perfectly all right, but if someone else, even Harry, occasionally, tries it, they'll be sorry they did. You, Ronald Arthur Weasley, are in love."

            As I stared at her, unable to believe that she had just put into words what I had denied for 6 years, everything fell into place, and I knew what I had to do.

            As I walked away from the table I could still hear Harry.

            "Ginny…I think I'm in love with you."

A/N: Don't know, I'll probably have a second chapter. If anyone even wants to read this.


	2. Part 2

A/N: Wow, for only posting this last night, I got some really great reviews! :o) OK, yes, I've decided to write a second chapter. I don't know if it'll be the end or not. OK. Here we go.

(Oh yes, this shall be in Hermione's POV, starting from when she ran off at breakfast)

Chapter 2

            I didn't want to cry. He didn't deserve to have the power to make me cry. I never quite understood why I analyzed (and probably over-analyzed) _everything_ he said or did. In fourth year, when the two of us had had that big row over Viktor, I had gone to bed and, after crying my eyes out for an hour, had gone back in my mind and tried to figure out just what he meant with every word, every action. 

            It's just that he's so unpredictable, unreasonable, and just plain irrational, that no matter how hard I tried to figure out what he meant, the further the answers seem to become. 

            At this point, I had found myself in the Gryffindor common room, which was, thankfully, empty, as breakfast was still being served. I walked up to my room and sank down on my bed, willing the tears not to fall.

            But they did.

            I was rendered helpless for the better part of an hour as everything he had said came running through my mind.

            "Sorry, 'Mione…Oh, I just thought 'Mione was…prettier…No, I didn't exactly…but I mean, it is rather long and it always makes me think of Hermy, and..." 

            He must have meant that my name was ugly…and who could blame him? Compared to Lavender's and Parvati's, it was like putting an onion next to a rose. 

            It only made me angrier that I cared this much. Why, in first year, I had actually _cried in a girl's bathroom_ because Ron had said that I was a nightmare. I didn't even _know_ him back then…

            Only well enough to have a crush on him.

            Oh, I admit, it was rather ridiculous. So for the first three years, I…sort of ignored it, and hoped it would go away. I honestly thought that it was just a silly little crush and that it would pass.

            Then, in fourth year…things changed. Every time I saw him make a fool out of himself whenever Fleur Delacour was around, it made my blood boil. And it wasn't even just because she was a Veela; it was because it was clear to me then that Ron only went for the prettier girls, like Padma Patil. The harder I tried to ignore my feelings for Ron, the stronger they became, until I made that stupid comment about asking me before someone else did, and not as a last resort. Honestly, I was practically throwing it in his face, and he either didn't understand what I was saying to him (unlikely for most, as I was basically telling him I liked him, but Ron is a different story altogether) or he just chose to ignore the insinuation and pretend nothing had happened.

            And that's a mostly accurate description of 5th year, and so far, for 6th. Somehow, Ginny had found out, which meant Harry did, but I _hoped_ no one else knew. Of course, this was entirely likely.

            And here's the real killer: it's not just a crush anymore. I ignored it, shunned it, and did just about anything to keep it under wraps. But as I watched Ron grow from an awkward, unsure boy to a relaxed, confident man, my feelings grew as well until it was undeniable. 

            I was in love.

            I didn't understand how it could have happened, because I was usually so careful about these sorts of things. I _knew_ that Ron and I weren't right for each other. We were so…different. He was into Quidditch, and I dedicated all of my time to my studies. Some might say that I was too serious, while he liked to have fun. But…it was there. I couldn't 

renounce it any longer because I was sure it might kill me if I did. 

            But even though I had admitted it, admitted that whenever he smiled at me, I found it just a bit harder stand up straight, admitted that his curly, red hair made me want to run my fingers through it, admitted that sometimes, when we were sitting on the couch together in front of the fire, I got this unreasonable urge to lay my head on his shoulder…it all didn't matter. Because he clearly did not feel the same way about me. If he had, he _had_ to have gotten all of the hints I had dropped him over the past 3 years. No. I wouldn't believe what Harry and Ginny kept telling me—they were just putting false hope in my heart. And I did _not_ need more of that.

            I might not be able to ignore my feelings, but I knew then that I could _never_ act on them.

            A few hours later, I had washed my face and felt somewhat ready to go back downstairs again. Hopefully Ron had gone to Hogsmeade with Harry and Ginny, and I could study in peace.

            I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked over to the door, checking to make sure I had everything before opening it—

            And suddenly, I was lying flat on my back…with Ron Weasley on top of me.

            "Ron," I said through gritted teeth, "what are you doing?"

            "I—er—well, I—came up here, to…apologize and…"

            "How did you even get up the staircase?" I asked out of curiosity.

            "I climbed up the banister after the second time I fell down that slide-thing," he said sheepishly, turning red.

            "Oh…" I said, suddenly realizing that we were very, very close indeed. I was looking straight into his crystal-blue eyes, which I discovered was a mistake, as I felt very, very weak then. I could smell soap, the particular scent I had come to associate with Ron. He looked very uncomfortable all of the sudden, and carefully got off of me.

            He offered his hand to me, but I shook my head and got up on my own. Merlin only knows what would happen if he held my hand—I'd probably try to kiss him and look like a complete fool.

            "So, you came up here to apologize, then?"

*Ron POV*

            I gulped and looked at my feet, unable to look at her after what had just happened. I knew that if I hadn't gotten off of her I would have probably kissed her right then and there, and somehow, no matter what Ginny and Harry had said, I couldn't believe Hermione would love a guy like me. I was poor, a troublemaker, and not at all brilliant. How could she love _me_ when Harry Potter was within reach? Sure, apparently now he wasn't available (Mental Note: Give Harry a talk and also inform brothers of Ginny's new boyfriend), but I knew I was no prize.

            "Yeah, I…I did," I muttered. "You know I don't think your name is ugly, don't you, Hermione?"  
            She sighed. "I don't know…I'd probably even agree with you."

            Suddenly outraged by the fact that she thought her name was ugly, I found the courage to look her in the eye. 

            "How could you say that?" I exclaimed. I'm pretty sure this caught her off guard. "Your name…it's…beautiful."

            "Ron, you don't have to say that," she said quietly. 

            All of a sudden, I couldn't bear to see her in pain. It was like I just _had_ to make her see that her name was beautiful. Maybe if I'd stopped to think for a minute, I would have realized that what I wanted to do was to tell Hermione that she was beautiful. But I was caught up in the heat of the moment, and anyway, I was never that adept at realizing my feelings (clearly shown in the story of my life). 

            Feeling brave enough to stand closer to her, I walked towards her and lifted her chain with my finger so that she was looking at me.

            "Hermione…" I murmured. "You're beautiful."

            She looked up at me, and I felt this overpowering sense of contentment, like it didn't matter that I wasn't rich, like Harry, or smart, or anything like that. It just felt like it was acceptable to be me. 

            To her, anyway, and that's really all that mattered.

*Hermione POV*

            I stood there, within reach of him. I could have reached up and hugged him, for what he had said.

            But I was frozen. I couldn't move. His eyes sort of held me there, and my knees locked. 

            Unfortunately, I knew I had to break the wonderful, emotion-filled silence. I had to tell Ron…it was now or never, and, now that _this_ had happened, if I didn't tell him I'd go mad. 

            "Ron…" I said softly. "I have to tell you something."

            He looked confused, but followed my lead and sat down beside me on the bed.

            I sighed, hoping that I wouldn't ruin my life (and possibly his) with my confession.

            "Something happened in fourth year to me that I've kept bottled up inside me for the past few years. It's been torture, really, and I haven't told you, not because I didn't want to, but because I didn't know what you'd say or how you'd react."

            "It's about Krum, isn't it?" he said angrily, slamming his fist into his open palm. "I'll kick his bloody—"

            "Ron!" I interrupted, getting frustrated already. "It's got nothing to do with Viktor. Will you just listen to me?"

            "Sorry," he mumbled.

            "Anyway, Harry and Ginny know, and I think it's only fair that you know, too."

            He began wringing his hands just slightly, and I knew he was getting nervous. Quite regrettably, I couldn't tell him that it was good news because he might not think of it that way.

            "You see…ever since fourth year…I've had…well…_feelings_…for…"

            I trailed off, hardly believing I was about to do this.

            "Hermione?" Ron said gently. I turned to look at him. "Are you all right?"

            "I'll be fine…in a second," I answered, taking a deep breath.

            "Ron, I've had feelings for…well…you."

            There. I'd said it.

            I glanced at him. He was staring straight ahead, unmoving and, so it looked, unaffected by what he'd just heard.

            "Well, I'll…just be going," I said, making to leave, hopefully going to find someplace where I could cry by myself. I'd imagined hurt, and I'd imagined terrible pain, but I don't think I could have ever prepared myself for this.

            "Hermione…wait."

            I whirled around to find Ron standing right there, an unmistakable emotion in his eyes.

            "I…well…I have _feelings _for you, too," he said, grinning. I swayed and almost fell over, but Ron caught me and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

            I would have to remember to thank Harry and Ginny.  


	3. Part 3

A/N: So many positive responses! Thank you so much :o) I wasn't really planning on writing another chapter, but I could hardly refuse so many requests.

Chapter 3-going to be a sort of Ginny/Harry counterpart to the story, starting in Ginny's POV…ever wonder what your characters are doing while important plot points, like Ron fixing (or trying to fix) his hair, are happening?

*Ginny POV*

            "I can't believe this," Hermione said irritatedly, checking her watch and then glancing up the boys' staircase. 

            "C-Can't believe what, Hermione?" I asked through a yawn. It might have been 11, but I was still exhausted. I'd been up late the night before working on a particularly nasty Potions essay, with Hermione's help. Somehow, she didn't seem tired at all.

            "How late Ron and Harry are going to sleep!" she exclaimed. "I just don't understand how they can waste the day doing something as ineffective as _sleeping_."

            "Actually, I _would_ like to get in some Quidditch plans before we go off to Hogsmeade," I said thoughtfully. "Now that we've got a new team, it's going to take a bit to settle everyone in."

            "More like it's going to take a bit to get yourself used to the fact that if you keep on staring at Harry, Gryffindor's going to lose."

            "Hermione!" I said, hitting her lightly on the shoulder. "I don't _stare_ at Harry."

            "I've gone to practices before, you know," she answered, looking rather amused. "And I've watched you do it."

            I sighed in defeat. "I can't help it, all right? Anyway, you do the same thing with my dear brother."

            Instead of denying it as I had, she simply slumped her shoulders. Harry and I had been on her for the past month, and she had finally confessed her feelings for him. Which somehow meant more fighting, probably because Ron was too much of a dolt to admit _his_ feelings. This didn't surprise me at all.

            "I really wish they'd hurry down here," she said, obviously trying to steer clear of anything involving Ron.

            Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, in which Hermione and I both got very annoyed due to the boys' long absence, they came down the stairwell.

            "I thought you'd _never_ wake up," Hermione said sternly. "I know it's Saturday, but it's nearly 11!"

            My point exactly.

            "Exactly, no classes, no reason to wake up early," Ron answered, a teasing grin on his face. "Even if we miss breakfast, we could always go down to the kitchens and nick some food from Dobby. He'd trip over himself to see Harry again."

            What a git. I knew he didn't know that he liked Hermione, but he knew how upset she got with the house-elves, and I really wasn't in the mood to hear one of their fights.

            "Oh, _honestly_," Hermione shot back before leaving the common room. I glanced at Ron, hoping the "you-love-Hermione-so-stop-being-such-a-prat-around-her" subliminal message got across, before following her. 

            Hermione and I reached the Great Hall before Harry and Ron, and I sat across from her, hoping that they'd somehow make up over breakfast. I helped myself to bacon and eggs and had just started to eat when Harry and Ron appeared. Harry sat beside me, something I was very pleased about, and Ron took the seat next to Hermione before tucking in rather avidly, something that was always disgusting to watch. He acted as if he hadn't seen food in days.

             "Oh, for heaven's sake, Ron, could you please show a bit more courtesy towards the people that actually have to watch you scarf down your food like that?" Hermione snapped on his first break as he cleaned his face off with a napkin.

            "_Go, Hermione_," I cheered silently in my head, although it was hard to concentrate with the boy I'd had a crush on since first year—actually, before that—sitting beside me. 

"Sorry, 'Mione," Ron answered. I watched Hermione intensely, hoping she wouldn't take offense to the nickname Ron had recently taken to calling her. The first time he'd used it, he'd bungled up the reason for it and had ended up insulting her.

"Ron, I still don't understand why you can't be bothered to say my full name," she responded, although I could tell she was slightly pleased.

            "Oh, I just thought 'Mione was…prettier," Ron said. I mentally slapped him—hard. 

            Here we go again.

 I looked at Harry and his eyes clearly said "uh-oh".

            "So Hermione is an ugly name, is that what you're telling me?"

            Oh no. I had a feeling this wouldn't work out. Stupid, stupid Ron.

            "No, I didn't exactly…but I mean, it is rather long and it always makes me think of Hermy, and…." he trailed off, and I sighed inwardly.

            "It's fine, Ron, I mean, I've had to deal with Malfoy, this can't be much worse, can it? Ginny, I don't think I'll be going to Hogsmeade today, I have a lot of work to do," Hermione said, standing up.

            "But Hermione—" I interjected, knowing it wouldn't do any good but having to try. "No, I really mustn't. You have fun, though."

            As she walked away, the anger built up inside me until I felt ready to burst. And there was Ron, sitting there as if he hadn't done anything wrong.

            "Ron, you just _had_ to ruin it, didn't you?" I burst out with fury. He was going to get it, if I had anything to say about it.

            "Ruin what?" he asked, as if he hadn't done anything wrong. The nerve of some people…

            "Her good mood!" I shot back, unable to believe him. And I'm his sister—that's saying something. "I mean, you're enough of a prat to ruin someone's life, and she was having such a good day, and you _know_ the type of influence you've got on her—"

            "Wait," he interrupted "What kind of influence do I have on her, exactly?"

            I could feel myself blushing immediately. Hermione _had_ admitted it but had sworn Harry and me to secrecy. Ron _couldn't_ find out.

            "Nothing, Ron, it's just that, you know, you're friends, and…" I couldn't think of anything else to say. I knew he would find out somehow. 

            "Ginny, we both know you're lying," he answered. "Just tell me the truth. I swear, I won't tell a soul."

            "No, I—I can't," I said. Honestly, I would have helped him if it had been any other girl…but Hermione was my best friend. I couldn't do that to her.

            Harry let out an exaggerated sigh and I nearly fell off of my seat.

            "Ron, Hermione's in love with you, she has been since fourth year. _That's_ why she's so upset with you about telling her that her name is ugly."

            I couldn't believe this. I would have expected it of anyone _but_ Harry, actually. To have betrayed Hermione! I heard Ron say something to him but I could hardly think straight…

            "Harry James Potter," I said, quietly but clearly. "I cannot believe that you just betrayed your best friend's trust like that."

            "Ginny, face it," Harry answered, turning toward me. Those green eyes captured me, somehow, and I had to look back at him. "All these secrets are just hurting everyone. He has to know. You know he does."

            Despite the fact that I didn't like how he'd chosen to reveal the information, I couldn't deny the truth. Harry was right.

            I lay my head down on the table, suddenly having a huge headache.

            "Would someone _please_ explain what is going on to the confused wizard in the first row?" Ron said, frustrated. Somehow, I had forgotten he was still there.

            "Oh, right," Harry responded. "Well, Hermione likes you. As more than a friend. As a matter of fact, mate, I'd say she loves you. And you, being that big, cute, prat that you are, have absolutely refused to see that, because no one is stupid enough to have actually just not noticed it. Oh, and you like her, too."

            Couldn't have put it better myself. Except I would have let out the cute part.

            "What?" Ron exclaimed. I lifted my head to look at him as he flushed under our stares. "I do _not_, we're best friends and—"

            "We didn't tell you who you were friends with," I said. He was going to admit his feelings if I had to use my Bat Bogey Hex on him until he did. "We're telling you that however bloody stupid you may try to be, you can't deny that sometimes, when you look at her, your breath catches in your throat. And sometimes, when she smiles at you, you feel like no matter what's going on—you're failing a class or you had the worst Quidditch game of your life—everything will be OK. You'd do anything to make her happy, but at the same time, you love to get her angry because of the look in her eye and the way her face flushes. You can tease her and think it's perfectly all right, but if someone else, even Harry, occasionally, tries it, they'll be sorry they did. You, Ronald Arthur Weasley, are in love."

            As he walked away with a look of realization on his face, I sighed in relief. Even if things didn't work out, which I was still sure they would, at least I had tried.

            Oh, and Harry.

            Without him, this wouldn't have happened. Actually, without him, I might not even be here. There probably wouldn't be a Hogwarts to go to.

            I turned to him and was surprised to see a shocked expression on his face.

A/N: You already know what he's going to say…but oh well! A teeny tiny cliffhanger. Never hurt anyone. I'm guessing there'll be 4 chapters unless you for some reason want to read more…hehehe. PLEASE REVIEW!!!


	4. Chapter 4

I'm so sorry for not posting—but I gave up fan fiction for Lent. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, especially when LavenderBrown kept on UPDATING! It drove me crazy that I couldn't read her stories. 

Chapter 4

*Harry's POV*

            I watched Ginny as she described—more like told, actually—to Ron exactly how he felt. Because of the whole "in love with Hermione" thing. But really, it felt more like she was describing exactly how _I_ felt whenever I looked at her.

            Except that, you know, she had no idea.

            As Ron walked away and she turned to me, I hadn't a clue what came over me. I had never been particularly brave with…girls. I mean, apparently, you throw Lord Voldemort, the Darkest wizard ever known, at me, and I can come away unscathed. Put a girl next to me, and I'm dead meat.

            "Ginny…I think I'm in love with you," I said slowly. Don't ask why I did it, or what I thought would come out of it. I just…said it.

            Her eyes widened and a blush bloomed over her cheeks. I was assuming that she was so horrified that she wasn't sure quite how to put her rejection that would make it seem less…cruel.

            "Harry…" she said faintly, avoiding my gaze.

            "I—I know," I said, hardly believing how foolish I'd been. "It was totally…out of line. I—just—don't tell Ron, OK?"

            And then, before she could say another word, I was out of the Great Hall and on my way to Gryffindor tower.

            As I walked blindly there, not really having to pay attention to where I was going because I knew the path so well, I berated myself angrily for having done such a stupid thing. I _knew_ she didn't like me…like that anymore. That was just a stupid childhood crush, and now I'd ruined our easy friendship. Because Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was a stupid, bloody prat.

            Soon I found myself at the Fat Lady's portrait and after giving the password, I stumbled into the common room. I looked around cautiously for Ron and Hermione, hoping that another one of their famous fights hadn't erupted. I didn't think I could deal with that as well as what had just happened.

            As the coast was clear, I walked over to one of the couches in front of the fire and slumped into it, the weight of misery weighing down on my shoulders. I just didn't know how many times it would take until I realized that girls like Ginny didn't like me as more than just a friend. 

            I had no idea how long I sat there, wallowing in self-pity, something I despised but didn't seem to be able to get rid of these days. 

            "Harry?" someone said tentatively.

            Without bothering to turn around, I said "Hi Hermione. You and Ron all right yet?"

            "Yeah, I…I guess," she replied. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her sit beside me on the couch.

            "Are you OK?" she asked, sounding concerned.

            "I will be, I think. I just have to stop acting like a complete prat," I answered, laughing somewhat bitterly.

"What do you mean? I don't—oh no," Hermione stood up and began pacing in front of the fireplace. "Harry, there's something you have to understand about Ginny. I mean, well, you know, you didn't really pay attention to her for, what, 5 years. And I know that now you…well…you think you like her. As more than a friend. But I mean, you don't really _know_ her. So I'd just…wait a bit before saying anything to her."

            "It's a tad late for that, Hermione," I replied slowly. "I think I told her I loved her."

            "You _what_?" she shrieked. I fell off the couch and hit my head on the fireplace.

            "Thanks a lot, Hermione," I said, rubbing my head. Luckily, there was no blood.

            "Oh, Harry, this is really bad, I don't know what you're going to do, because that must have been such a shock, you don't just _spring _that on a person, oh dear, I'd better go off and find her…"

            Still mumbling (presumably to herself, because I didn't understand a word she said), Hermione walked out of the common room.

            I threw myself on the sofa and groaned, burrowing my head into a pillow. I couldn't believe what a mess I'd made of things. 

            "I'd say you've gotten yourself into a right mess, Harry," a voice said above me. I slowly lifted my head to find Ron standing there, grinning like a loon. I decided not to ask what had made him so happy. I had a feeling I really didn't want to know.

            "Thanks for all the advice, Ron," I said, sitting up on the couch.

            "Y'know, Harry," he said, sitting next to me. "I know my sister as well as anyone and I'd say that that crush she had on you when she was in first year is gone--long gone."

            "Thanks, Ron," I said sarcastically. What good were best mates, anyway? At least, best mates like Ron. He really was a good guy, except for when he was taking your heart out and stepping on it. And then using it as a Bludger.

            "No, no, no," he said, holding his hands up. "You're missing the point."

            "Oh, really?" I asked him defensively. "I think I'm…_not_ missing the point. I get exactly what you're saying. You're saying that I'm not good enough for Ginny, that no matter how hard I try, she'll just see me as her older brother's best friend…and hopefully as her friend. And you're also saying that you don't think I'm good enough for her, that you'd rather leave her to the Dean Thomases of the world instead of your own bloody best friend. I understand, Ron. I get it."

            He was looking at something behind me with an odd look on his face. 

            "OK, Harry—what would be the absolute worst thing that could happen right now?"

            No. Fate was not this cruel. It would not do this to me, this time. I had gone through a lot, but this was just too much.

            I slowly turned around to find Ginny Weasley standing halfway in the Gryffindor common room, with the portrait of the Fat Lady hanging wide open. I could hear her mumbling about how inconsiderate students were, that she'd been in front of the Gryffindor common room for longer than most of our great-great-great-great grandparents' parents had been alive, and so on and so forth.

            The thing was…

            I couldn't exactly concentrate on that when the most beautiful girl in the world was standing in front of me. 


	5. Part 5

Part 5

*Ginny POV*

            "Oh, really? I think I'm…_not_ missing the point. I get exactly what you're saying. You're saying that I'm not good enough for Ginny, that no matter how hard I try, she'll just see me as her older brother's best friend…and hopefully as her friend. And you're also saying that you don't think I'm good enough for her, that you'd rather leave her to the Dean Thomases of the world instead of your own bloody best friend. I understand, Ron. I get it."

            I could hardly believe my own ears as I stood behind Harry. The words I had been dreaming about hearing were actually coming out of Harry Potter's mouth.

            I had to be dreaming.

            That was it.

            "OK, Harry—what would be the absolute worst thing that could happen right now?" Ron asked, looking straight at me.

            I took a deep breath as Harry turned around to look at me. He looked shocked and…

            Disappointed?

            "H-hi, Harry," I said shakily. I had just been trying to get over Harry telling me he loved me, and now I had to deal with this too? With him in the room?

            "I'm going to go," Ron said before disappearing up the boys' staircase.

            "So…" I said weakly, hoping he would carry on the burden of a conversation-starter.

            "Ginny, I think I have to explain myself," Harry sat in a chair by the fire. "Please. Sit with me."

            I walked over to the chair next to him and practically fell into it. You would think that by the fifth year of being in close proximity to Harry, I would have gotten used to it. But no, his emerald green eyes and messy black hair still did wicked things to me. Damn hormones.

            "I know I took you…by surprise this morning when I told you that I loved you," Harry said cautiously, as if I would erupt at any second. "But the thing is, Ginny, when you told Ron all that stuff about Hermione…well…"

            "Well?" I prompted.

            "I feel the same way about—about you."

            I gaped at him.

            "I mean…_my_ breath catches in my throat when I look at you. And last year wasn't the best time for me…but when you smiled at me, no matter what had just happened—I felt like everything would be OK. And yeah, I don't tease you all that often, but it bothers me when people—other people—tease you."    

            I had no idea what to say.

            "But Harry…I mean…that doesn't necessarily mean you _love_ me. I just—love is such a strong word, you know? And you haven't really thought about me in…that way before. So don't you think you're overreacting? Just a little?"

            I was surprised. I didn't think I could get that far without breaking down. 

            "Well…I think people can love other people for a long time and not realize it until something happens…like two of their best friends recognizing their feelings for what they are."

            "Harry, I just don't think you can learn to love me in a day," I answered. It sounded a lot harsher than I meant to, but this was really tearing me up here.

            "Ginny, I haven't had an opportunity to love many people, you know? I mean…my family is basically nonexistent…and then I met Ron. And everything changed. I know I brushed you off when I met you. But what I'm telling you know is the truth."

            "Maybe you're not understanding what you're feeling. Maybe you just love me as a…a friend. Or a sister."

            I swallowed. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_…

            Without any further warning, he leaned over and kissed me.

            I'd been kissed before. It wasn't as if I had no experience at all. I'd snogged Dean a fair number of times. But it was _nothing_ compared to how Harry's lips on mine made me feel. I felt as if I was floating up out of my body and watching it happen, but even then it didn't seem real. I closed my eyes and for the first time in my life, saw stars exploding behind my eyelids. It was unreal. I was lightheaded, dizzy, but utterly and totally blissful.

            And then it ended, and I was sitting there in shock as Harry sat back in his chair.

            "I really don't think that I could do what I just did if I loved you as a friend or a sister, Gin."

            "Harry, I'll admit it. There was real…chemistry there. But why can't we take it slowly? I mean, you like me…I think. And I like you, too. But maybe we should just tone it down. A little."

            He smiled. My bloody knees buckled and I wasn't even standing up.

            "I'd love to."

A/N: To continue or not? I don't know. Let me know in a review. :o)


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